tagFetishKeeper of the Legjail

Keeper of the Legjail


Hello: If any of you know me, you know I write scissor stories, stories about strong-legged women dominating their victims. This is one such story, and I'd be interested in your feedback, please.

Friday Night at the Abduction

The following is the first chapter in a story about Susan, a powerful young woman who for fun will kidnap the occasional male and keep him prisoner in her legjail for as long as it suits her fancy - and her needs.

Susan smiled. She liked to fish and she couldn't help thinking of that on an expedition like this one.

The man smiled back as she crossed her rugged legs, unbuttoned his top shirt button with a shaky hand as she slid her sundress up a bit higher on those sinfully thick, tanned quads, and broke an actual sweat when she licked a finger sexily and trailed a wet line of saliva down the side forrow of her outer thigh, the one facing him.

"Hook, line and sinker," she sighed to herself through her smile, shooting the nervous young man a wave.

She moved in for the kill, getting up to walk to where he sat at the bar, taking her time, swinging her hips side to side in just the right motion that stopped just short of being slutty. She swung her full ass up onto the stool next to his and crossed those legs again.

"I couldn't help but notice you staring" she said, purposely stopping in mid-sentence to look down at the two reasons for doing so before looking up and continuing "my legs. Do you like my legs?"

She dragged out the 'l'in like long enough to make the whole word sound like 'lick.' The man gulped, wide-eyed as the 5- foot, 7-inch, 135-pound solid beauty smiled.

"Well, yes, they're very, uh, very..." he stammered.

Susan smiled, picked up his glass, held it to her mouth and slowly ran her pink tongue around the rim before holding it up to his quivering lips, beckoning him to take a sip. He did, slobbering a bit of the gin and tonic down his clean-shaven chin.

"Don't be nervous..." she said, hinting for a name, which he gave as Rob. "You're a leg man, huh, Robbie?"

Rob nodded furiously, not taking his eyes off her sharp blue ones. She smiled with those eyes, crinkling the corners of her sexy mouth slightly as she leaned into him, face to face.

"What would you like to do to my legs....Robbie?" she hissed into his mouth, inches away, watching his lips, licking her own. "Would you like to touch them, Robbie? Would you like to feel the muscles in my calves, Robbie, maybe massage my big quadriceps, perhaps run your tongue up and down the thick hamstring? Or maybe you'd like to use your cock, Robbie, would you like that? Like to run your hard, hot cock up and down the silk of my legs? Hmmm?"

She looked down into his lap. His cock was blazing a trail straight up, making his pants tent obscenely. She smiled. The conversation continued and when she was satisfied she'd gotten what she'd needed - confirmation that he was single, unattached, lived alone - she moved further.

"These legs can be yours for the whole weekend, Robbie, they can be so much a part of you, you won't be able to stand it," Susan growled, taking his hands and placing them on the thick bubbles of her top thighs, allowing him to gently caress them. "Think you can handle it for the whole weekend, Robbie?"

Robbie was nodding furiously. Susan smiled and laughed an evil laugh. She liked them very anxious, made them that much easier to capture and keep captured.

"You're gonna be my prisoner, Robbie, you're gonna do some time this weekend," she growled, nipping his ear in her sharp teeth until he squealed in pain.

"T...time?" he asked curiously, pulling back to look at her as she laughed, twisting her head one way and then the other to swish the shoulder-length brown hair out of her eyes.

"In my legjail, Robbie," she hissed. "You ever done time in a legjail?"

His curious look tickled her. She stood up, took his hand and led them to a corner booth in a dark corner of the bar where no one could see. She sat beside him and then quickly scooted her long legs up and around him, one thigh around his back, the other around his belly. She locked her ankles and exerted the slightest of squeezes.

"This is my legjail, the gentle version," she said, slowly increasing the pressure, taking delight in watching the confusion spread across his pain, the way it did on all Susan's prisoners' faces. "I'll keep you in my legs all weekend, Robbie, you'll seldom be let out. And that's at my place or anywhere else we go. My legs own your ass, Robbie, do you understand us?"

He squeaked in pain as he felt the thick ribbons of adductor meat start to press in on his spine and belly.

"Us...what...do you mean...us?" he whimpered, his trembling hands on her thigh that laced his belly.

"Us, Robbie, me and my legs...us!" Susan grimaced,punching down harder on the hold now, letting him feel a more serious dose of what was in store for him.

Robbie's back arched in pain and he threw his head back as if to scream,but the more the pressure increased on his middle, the less air he could suck in until he had no voice - and very little air.

"No....don't....want...." he tried, his head lolling side to side, eyes bugged out in pain and horror.

Susan laughed evily.

"No....don't....want..." she squealed, mimicking him sarcastically. "Too....fucking....bad! It's too late, Robbie, you belong to US now!!!"

Susan reefed down hard, locked up her ankles securely, her leather sandals twisting around each other. She leaned up on her elbows, hands planted behind her on the cheap vinyl seats of the booth, teeth clenched, blue eyes flashing in the dark. Robbie looked at her and begged with his eyes as he felt her iron thighs vibrate on his guts.

She let up just before he passed out, and let him recover. She stood the groggy man up and then leaped on his back in a piggyback, walking him to the middle of the bar,laughing, as if they were two lovestruck young people on a giddy night on the town.

"C'mon, loverboy, give your girl a ride, yippeee!!" she squealed, watching others in the bar look and laugh. "Giddyap!"

To urge him along, she laced her iron thighs around his short ribs, locking them in front of him and tensing her iron adductors until he felt bones bend. He grimaced, faked a smile and got them out of the bar.

"Let's go, my little prisoner," she growled into his ear, squeezing her thighs around his guts to urge him on. "I live 10 blocks from here. If you're lucky, you'll make it before I bust a rib."

Robbie walked down the street, sweat streaming down his face as Susan's thighs tightened with every step. He staggered the 10 long blocks into the middle of a Friday night he would never forget and that wouldn't end for two more days.

Next installment: "The Oral Majority." Susan uses her powerful legs to make her prisoner her private oral slave.

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